


All for the Better Or Maybe Not

by mailroomy



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Drama, Humor, Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2009-11-15
Updated: 2010-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-02 23:45:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 32
Words: 15,634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mailroomy/pseuds/mailroomy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of the snape100 challenge: Snape de-aged. "He hated growing up the first time. Then again, he's much smarter this time around." Individual headers and warnings in each chapter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Changes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Changes for the Better (Or Maybe Not)  
> Challenge: #300: Severus Snape: De-aged  
> Word Count: 2 x 100  
> Rating: PG

* * *

I. Another One of Your Schemes, I'm Sure

They said these people were Wizarding Britain's best minds... but look at what they came up with. They even dared to look amused.

"You could've just let me expire. Less hassle for everyone. Certainly for me."

Gasps of horror here. A tearful eye there. Better. He closed his eyes.

"It's only temporary. The Ministry can't be this stubborn forever," someone said.

Meaning this could be permanent. He hated growing up the first time.

He looked at them carefully this time. Those tearful, hopeful, fearful faces.

Then again, he's much smarter this time around. _Oh, the possibilities._

He felt better already.

* * *

II. The Negotiation

"Now to hide you from the Ministry."

"No more schooling." _It's one thing teaching dunderheads. Quite another to actually have to live, learn, Merlin forbid, __socialise__ with them._

"He's already too smart for his own good."

"He should be hidden far away from Britain."

_Maybe they'll let me travel the world._

"Far away from the Wizarding World, as well." _Made small. Exiled to a muggle community. Abroad. They could've just let me die._

"A muggle home stay?"

"With a nice family, of course."

_Not a muggle orphanage, then? Afraid of a smarter Dark Lord with a French accent, are we?_


	2. Spells

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Spells for the Better (Or Maybe Not)  
> Challenge: #300: Severus Snape: De-aged  
> Word Count: 3 x 100  
> Rating: PG

I. It was rather a group effort

Profound changes to his body made him sleepy, so he slept all night. When he woke up the next morning, he found them already sitting around his bed. He also found that he was still angry.

"I've survived two wars as an adult, I really don't see why I have to be a child to evade the sodding Ministry."

But his protestations fell on selectively deaf ears. Disgustingly Healthy Breakfast was offered instead.

He listened to them talk about the spell that was cast upon him: a side project of Filius, Minerva, and their cabal of charmers and cat-transfigurers.

* * *

II. For the good of mind, body, and soul

He grudgingly admitted, privately and never out loud, that the whole thing was rather well-thought out: a complex weave of charms and spells, transfigurations of the non-feline kind, the rather sound understanding of time turner principles, a surprising selection of memory charms. _Wait._

"Memory charms?" _Does that mean I'll forget everything? No!_

"Don't worry, you won't forget anything. It's just that your mind and magical core will work together to achieve the best possible balance of intellect and magical growth to keep you from over-exerting yourself."

"Don't forget, everything you are, including your brain tissues, are six."

* * *

III. Hexes on the tip of my tongue

The images were already there in his head, all rather gruesome and satisfactory. All he had to do was say it.

"I can't seem to hex you," he said instead, frustration bubbling over.

At least this time they had the good courtesy of not laughing, some even looked guilty.

"Most spells and hexes would ask too much of your body, so you won't be able to perform it."

_Said the butcher to the lamb. How am I supposed to protect myself? Merlin's shrivelled balls, kill me now._

"I'm stupid now," he said, horrified to hear himself sound younger than six.


	3. Outings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Outings for the Better (Or Maybe Not)  
> Challenge: #301: Snape's First Date  
> Word Count: 3 x 100  
> Rating: PG  
> Pairing: None. Although there's Lupin somewhere in there.  
> Notes: Snape is still de-aged. Still waiting to be shipped out to parts unknown. Lupin is alive for some AU reason. It's a loosely defined "date" of course, but I hope it fits, especially since the occasion was pre-arranged (inflicted upon, as Snape would say), etc etc. I hope it's ok. *lives in fear*

I. Old friend, new friend

So it was how Remus found him: kneeling on a thick cushion on a high stool, commandeering hapless helpers.

It was awhile before he was noticed.

An eyebrow rose. "What?"

"Poppy said I could find you here, told me to take you out to lunch."

He found himself the recipient of many thankful looks and one annoyed glare.

"I'm busy."

"Poppy told me to remind you of your promise, something about being released from the Hospital Wing early?"

One put-upon sigh. One frightening leap onto solid ground. "Her staff couldn't cope and it's my fault, all of a sudden."

* * *

II. The more things change...

So it was how they found themselves: sitting on a picnic cloth, rummaging through an overflowing picnic basket. Fresh air. Yet another one of Poppy's Prescription for the Newly Resized.

Looking around, Remus found it hard to believe that war was ever fought here. Of course there were scarred trees, scorched earth, a castle in need of rebuilding, broken souls to mend. But staring at vast blue skies and the birds flying overhead made it too easy to forget.

A small whoop surprised him. Then he saw Severus pick an odd-shaped grass, carefully wrapping it in a white napkin.

* * *

III. Baby's First Date

So it was how Severus found himself: walking back to the castle, precious ingredient tucked safely against his chest; Lupin with the basket, casting annoyingly long shadows over him, a reminder of things he'd lost.

"What are you doing here?" He made a point to look straight ahead.

"I heard about you, wanted to see you."

"You've seen me."

"Yes, you're very c... severe. As severe as ever."

For that, Severus appreciated his company. And if he slipped his ridiculously small hand into Lupin's free hand, well, he could always blame it on his stupid six year old brain.


	4. Playdates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Playdates for the Better (Or Maybe Not)  
> Word Count: 5 x 100  
> Rating: PG or PG-13  
> Pairing: None. Although there's Lupin somewhere in there.  
> Notes: Unbeta-ed and very weird. Product of a brain on caffeine-high, apologies in advance then.

"I'll take you to see Teddy, sometime," he had said. Their one lunch had turned into an almost steady thing. He was unspeakably glad that Severus saw him as 'mostly tolerable'. Severus hadn't offered any opinion on that invitation, so he had been looking for the right time.

This, though, wasn't how he envisioned it to be. Not Hagrid running with speed seemingly uncharacteristic of his size. Not Hagrid slapping a timed portkey into his palm. "They're 'ere. Ya' know wat ta do."

Almost not enough time to gather a sleeping Severus, belly full, eyelids heavy after a hearty lunch.

* * *

Three portkey jumps later, Severus was still asleep. A small miracle, that.

They ended up in one of the older and rarely safe houses. He left Severus asleep on the couch, tucked under a warm blanket. In the kitchen, he found rations for seven days, and a fresh-enough dose of Wolfsbane.

"We'll stay here for three days," he said over dinner. "Then I'll take you to Andromeda."

"Why can't I stay here, with you? I've seen the basement room and the Wolfsbane smelt fine."

"I'd rather not gamble. 'sides you'll finally meet Teddy."

"I was afraid you'd say that."

* * *

They travelled to Andromeda's the muggle way. The Glamour charm irritated Severus the most, as some Muggles managed to stop to compliment him on his unwanted cuteness ("oh, he frowned delightfully!") despite the copious Confundus and Notice-me-nots ("Lupin. How you survived the war, I'll never know.")

"They can't be muggles, the devil's army," Severus groused after the woman who attempted to pat him to death left with a "what precious boy you have, sir" to Remus.

Remus didn't have the heart to say that Severus was equally endearing without the Glamour.

"We'll be arriving soon," he said instead.

* * *

"Oh!" Andromeda exclaimed. "You're.. different," she said, ushering them inside.

"Yes, well," Severus said, eyeing his reflection in the hall mirror. "I wasn't so bad as a child the first time. I grow uglier with age, though. This won't last."

Remus went to the kitchen to make tea as Andromeda showed him around before showing him Teddy, who was sound asleep.

"I need to do some shopping," she said, leaving him alone with the boy.

Severus didn't know how long he stood there staring. "Tell me he'll grow up happy," he said when he felt Remus standing next to him.

* * *

"Now you have a chance for a happy childhood, too."

Severus snorted. "Don't be daft, Lupin," Not with the things he remembered, even though they looked hazy, like reading horror stories. Not with the things he knew but couldn't articulate properly because his stupid six year old brain couldn't be arsed to do so. And the naps this body demanded! He had never needed before!

But he did seem to have more fun now, than the first time round. And people seemed to try their hardest to allow him his fun.

"Fine," he relented. "Life does seem more enjoyable now."


	5. The Old Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: The Old Room (Playdates for the Better, Interlude 1)  
> Challenge: #302: Snape's Private Rooms  
> Word Count: 5 x 100  
> Rating: PG  
> Pairing: None.

Three wizards and a house elf sighed, relieved to see the retreating backs of their unwanted guests ("Bad Meanistry, Horrors, and Idiotgamots people," the elf had thought, undoubtedly learning such vocabulary from Rather-Young Master Sev'rus whom the elf adored). Hagrid would make sure they did not linger and wander about unnecessarily.

"Tea, I think?" Minerva said, after another sigh. "My office?"

"You and Filius go ahead," Poppy said. "I'll join you after I straighten up here."

Not that there's much to straighten out, as the room was almost empty, as if Severus Snape had never lived there at all.

* * *

One ministry official, two mean-spirited aurors, and a "Senior Representative" of the Wizengamot had walked into the dungeon laboratory earlier that afternoon.

"Where is he?" one of them had asked, rudely and without preamble, yanking a young-looking trainee mediwizard around.

"Where is who?" Poppy Pomfrey asked, emerging from the storage room with Hagrid walking behind her carrying a large crate.

"Snape!"

"Well, as you can see, he's not here." _Out to lunch with Remus, thank Merlin for small favours._

"You know better than trying to harbour a criminal, Madam Pomfrey."

"Well," she said, "You better see for yourself then."

* * *

Poppy had then escorted her guests down to the Potion Master's rooms as Hagrid had begged off in search "fer more of the leaves stuff yer be wantin'". _No doubt alerting Remus to go hide Severus elsewhere_, she thought approvingly.

"Through here," she said, ushering them into an almost empty room. "As you can see, he doesn't live here anymore."

They had moved Severus to rooms closer to the Hospital Wing several days previous (_for monitoring purposes. and the air. and the light. _Severus was in a foul mood that day), but the Ministry didn't need to know that.

* * *

Then a purple house elf had them jumping towards the ceiling. "OH! Madam Pomfrey with guests! Barny is not know!"

"It's fine, Barny. These men are from the Ministry," she had said. "They're looking for Professor Snape."

Barny, the elf born purple due to her mother's overindulgence of Brinjalberry during pregnancy, looked at Madam Pomfrey, then at the mean-looking guests, then deduced correctly. "But, Professor not here for long time! Barny cleans for new Professor to be."

"Do you really think he would return here to teach? After everything?" she asked enigmatically.

A stern, stout man glared at her.

* * *

They then argued until Minerva, Filius and Hagrid arrived.

Argued some more, before reluctantly leaving. They would return, they had threatened.

Now, Poppy was finally left alone in the room, with only Barny puttering about the place.

She marvelled at how large the room now seemed to be. Severus had collected, hoarded, things from books to bottles. And like a crow, he coveted shiny things: cauldrons, and knives stored in beautiful carved boxes. The collection had grown inwards, had taken up space.

Now, they're gone. Not gone. Simply relocated. To a new place. She felt rather nostalgic on his behalf.


	6. The New Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: The New Room  
> Word Count: 4 x 100  
> Rating: PG  
> Pairing: None.  
> Summary: Trespassers ahoy! And a 'thing'.

Poppy stood in front of the door, hesitating. She would just place the thing on the table and leave again or task a house elf to put it there. She didn't even need to be inside the room.

But curiosity won.

She opened the door, stepped into the room. She had never been inside these walls without Severus present, ever-watchful. She had helped him move from his old rooms to this new one, but she never dared look one second longer than necessary.

Now he would probably be as far away from Hogwarts, with Remus, in a safe house somewhere.

* * *

The thing in her hand was Severus's, she was sure. Barny, the purple-hued house elf had handed it to her. "Barny founds this when Barny cleans Young Master Severus's old room. Madam Pomfrey puts it back in Young Master's room? Or Barny puts back?"

"I'll do it, Barny," she had said.

The thing was a small carving of a wolf, worn, dusty and a little mossy around the edges. It had fell and rolled into a crack in the dungeon walls, languished in the dark and humid.

She looked around, trying to figure out the best place to put it.

* * *

The layout of the room was identical to the old rooms Severus left down in the dungeons. In fact he insisted that everything was arranged the same way. There were heavy dark drapes covering long tall windows, but even then this room still received more light and warmth than down below.

Everything was the same, but not quite. There were glimpses of little children's whimsies painstakingly hidden between the more austere, grown-up things the older Severus collected.

Of course, the staff was mostly responsible for the less serious additions. Gifts given to the newly small Severus, much to his horror.

* * *

She recognized the set of children's books, Minerva's gift, bound in sedate leather on his insistence. (Colourful covers disturb my bookshelf!)

The set of Chocolate Frog Cards was from Filius, which Severus kept on his desk in a fine glass box (something from his mother). She noticed that Albus Dumbledore's card sat at the top of the deck.

Did it just wink at her?! _Trickeries of light_, she thought.

Hagrid's gift, a mischievous-looking unicorn, was carved out of whitewood, half-hidden between Severus's collection of odd-looking bottles.

Poppy carefully placed the wolf carving by the unicorn's feet, mottled brown against white.


	7. Wolf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: The Wolf  
> Word Count: 3 x 100  
> Rating: PG/PG-13  
> Pairing: None.  
> Summary: Trespassers ahoy! And a 'thing'.

One day, Severus would discover the wolf, then put it into his pocket. He would fall into a black mood, snappish and irritable for a whole week.

One day, he would take the wolf out of his pocket.

He would tell Remus how his father had given it to him, a lifetime ago, during his bouts of lucidity (few and far in-between).

Severus had thrown the wolf away one night, after a particularly harsh row between his parents. His mother had retrieved it, returned it to Severus, asked him to remember that despite everything, his father was a good man.

* * *

The second time he tried to throw it away was soon after the Whomping Willow incident. He had thrown it into the lake, watched it sink under cold murky water. Did he cry that time? He couldn't remember. But he remembered laughing when the giant squid resurfaced, handing him the wolf, soppy wet, soaked to its wooden heart.

He had placed it in his pockets, then, a wet spot next to his thigh. He reminded himself that despite everything Remus Lupin was a good boy.

"You could probably guess the third time I tried to throw it away."

Remus nodded.

* * *

"Do you think it's something that Teddy would like?" Severus had asked. Remus probably had said yes then, because it was Teddy's birthday and a carved wolf, old and worn, but with a new varnish, emerged from green and silver wrapping.

"Something for you to remember your father by," Severus would tell Teddy, though the toddler might not understand what was being said.

"He might not be the most brave, might be rather spineless at times," Severus had said, solemnly with a hint of mischief as Remus sputtered indignantly. "But despite everything, he's a good man and a good father."


	8. Mistaken Identities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Mistaken Identities  
> Challenge: #303: Five Senses: Sight  
> Word Count: 5 x 100  
> Rating: PG  
> Pairing: None.  
> Summary: They sure don't know who they're messing with.

One moment he was raptly observing a Silversilk butterfly's slow emergence from its long isolation, the sun reflected off the matte-silvery filaments of its chrysalis. The next moment, a blow to his head, and darkness descended. _Oh bother! _He thought.

He woke up in complete darkness. He blinked a few times, but it wasn't any less dark than before. He couldn't even see the tip of his nose. He tried Lumos but it remained dark. Frustration went, replaced by anger.

_How stupid, to be caught unawares. _His sense of survival had apparently vanished with the arrival of his oft-cursed youth.

* * *

The next time he opened his eyes, he saw boots staring back at him. They were blurry at first, but cleared up when his eyes began to get used to light again.

A pair of mud-spattered black, a few pairs of battered browns, and ones with dull buckles.

He turned his head and saw faces staring down at him. Not too young, not too old, all around the age he would've been. They had little wrinkles and almost all of them were scarred. Some looked puzzled, some looked uncertainly amused, some looked quite irritated.

He didn't recognise any of them.

* * *

One man lowered himself into a crouch. His face dominated Severus's vision, all wrinkly, grimy, scarred, leathery face. Much to his dismay, Severus flinched, recoiling as far back as the wall on his back would allow him.

"I thought the Lupin pup is just a small baby," the man said, still staring at Severus.

"That was what I thought." Another man joined, crouching and scrutinising just as intently. This time Severus returned the favour, committing into memory every mole, every pockmark, every hint of stubble.

"But we found him in the Tonks woman's garden. Whose else could he have been?"

* * *

Andromeda's house had a smallish garden. It was a very practical garden, consisting mostly of cooking and healing herbs. Once Severus realised he wasn't about to be returning to Hogwarts in a hurry, he began to take interest in it. At least there he could catch some peace and quiet, away from Andromeda's attempt at fussing.

She wasn't an avid gardener to start with, and now with Teddy to care for her time in the garden was even shorter.

He found the Silversilk chrysalis on the sixth day of his stay. Two days later, the butterfly was ready to emerge.

* * *

Severus watched as the men turned and left him alone again. They had the courtesy of leaving one short candle burning by the door.

It appeared that he's been held hostage for ransom, or something else more nefarious. It seemed that Lupin had angered them in some way. Were they werewolves, too, he wondered.

They thought he was Teddy._ Of all the jokes the heavens played._ Lupin's pup, he laughed bitterly.

He stared at the candle until it burnt bright shadows upon his retinas, until it died away.

_What now_? he wondered as his world gradually turned dark once more.


	9. Bottles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Bottles (Mistaken Identities: Interlude 1)  
> Challenge: #303: Five Senses: Sight  
> Word Count: 2 x 100  
> Rating: PG  
> Pairing: None.  
> Summary: Lupin wakes up to the calm before the storm

He had forgotten to close the shutters last night. The sudden flood of light stunned him momentarily as he climbed out of the basement of the safehouse, finally free from this month's transformation.

There would be other months to not quite look forward to, he thought, as he stumbled blindly onto a small chair next to the basement door.

The next time he opened his eyes, he saw dust motes drifting about, golden-edged and rather cheerful. A glint on the table caught his eyes.

He should really wash it, then return to Andromeda's. He missed Teddy terribly. And Severus, too.

* * *

The bottle was exquisitely cut and formed, easily the most beautiful thing in the house. He rinsed it carefully, and wiped it down gently.

_No cleaning charms, no drying charms_. Severus had reminded him. Charms and spells, however seemingly harmless could potentially disturb a potion's magical properties. _I'd like the bottle to be useful still._

Remus placed it back on the table, inside the shaft of warm golden sunlight.

Sitting back on the small rickety chair, he decided to catch a quick nap.

Around him, a kaleidoscope of small rainbows danced merrily, masking the shadows awaiting him back at Andromeda's.


	10. Shuffle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Shuffle  
> Challenge: #304: Five Senses: Hearing  
> Word Count: 4 x 100  
> Rating: PG-13  
> Pairing: None.  
> Summary: This dungeon, Severus decides, is nothing like the one back at Hogwarts.

He had been drifting in and out of sleep, always waking up to complete darkness, then lulled back into an uneasy sleep by white noise and the jumble of his own thoughts.

This time he woke up to the sound of someone sobbing. He was momentarily horrified, thinking that he'd finally lost it, finally being reduced to produce such pathetic sounds. He had never done it, despite the spiteful Marauders' contrary claims.

Realisation dawned quickly, and he was rather glad that it wasn't him who made such noise.

Which meant that he was no longer alone.

The sobbing grew louder.

* * *

The crying irritated his already frayed nerves. "Stop it!"

The sobbing, coming from somewhere at the other end of the room, stopped immediately, replaced by the odd hitching and gulping.

"Who are you?" he asked, his voice echoing lightly within the room.

The gulping noises receded, muffled against something. A palm over a mouth, or a fabric of one's clothing. But no answer.

Severus stopped himself from crawling around trying to find the other person. No telling who awaited there. _Best stay put_.

"Who are you?" he asked again.

"Perry Ticklehart."

The voice sounded terribly young. The name sounded familiar.

* * *

"And who are you?" the voice named Perry asked.

"S... Te...," _sigh _"Theo," he decided. The longer he could hide his identity the better. His dunderheaded captors thought he was Lupin's, but he won't be calling himself something so juvenile and saccharine as 'Teddy'. He was almost Theo, after all.

"Were you at Hogwarts, too?" Perry asked again.

_Rather big for his age. Longbottom-ish at Potions. _Severus finally remembered. _But sorted Ravenclaw. _

"Not in your year," Severus answered.

"Yeah, you sound younger than me," Perry decided.

It was quite an effort on Severus's part not to correct the boy.

* * *

Suddenly their world of darkness was no longer quite so silent.

"What's happening?" Perry whispered.

Raised voices, doors being thrown open, footsteps hurrying up and down the corridor.

_'Leave nothing behind!' _gruff voice rose above the din. _'Get the kids moving!'_

More doors being opened. Then, sounds of young frightened voices crying for their parents.

_More children! How many more?_

Sounds of footsteps getting closer to their door. Perry had started sobbing again.

The door opened. Men at the doorway casting long shadows upon them. Once muffled noise rushed inside the room like a wall of sound. _Merlin help us. _


	11. Tea and Biscuits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Tea and Biscuits  
> Challenge: #304: Five Senses: Hearing  
> Word Count: 4 x 100  
> Rating: PG-13  
> Pairing: None.  
> Summary: Tea time without you.

The apparently-untraceable portkey deposited Remus in an abandoned alleyway barely within the town limits. Out from between two grimy walls, a turn left then a small right, he began his walk back to Andromeda's.

He could, of course, Apparate straight to Andromeda's doorstep, but walking was always pleasant, especially around this neighbourhood. There had always been quaint little shops with cheerful tinkly bells over their doors.

But not anymore. As with other villages across Wizarding Britain, this one did not escape unscathed. More than a few shops had closed, broken windows like gaping wounds displaying empty shelves and broken hearts.

* * *

The shops still open were a shadow of their own past, each barely afloat. Some seemed to have a permanent line of people, all dark and miserable, bowed and broken, waiting to receive their meagre ration.

He walked past the grocery shop, with its own line of people, his heart heavy with sadness as he heard a child's wail rose above hushed chatter.

We're the more fortunate ones, he said to himself.

The streets that were once clean now played host to numerous homeless souls. Small children, elderly women, and others in between, begging for scarce food and scarcer coins.

* * *

He arrived at Andromeda's doorstep just in time for tea. Andromeda welcomed him, with Teddy braced on one hip. The baby smiled, then reached out to him. His joyful cooing was a balm to Remus's soul.

Tea awaited him in the small but clean parlour. To it he added a few chocolate biscuits from the village's sweet shop, once a cheerful place, now almost abandoned as few could still afford the sweets.

He sat across Andromeda, Teddy on his lap.

"Where's Severus?" he asked as he placed the empty bottle that Severus wanted on the table next to his tea.

* * *

"He goes away during the day. The back garden, the park, sometimes as far as Mrs. Beady's shop," Andromeda said. "He usually comes back in time to help prepare dinner."

Teddy had gotten hold of the bottle, a shiny odd thing that caught his attention. He made little protesting sounds as Remus took it away.

"Apparently to escape my fussing," she added. "I keep forgetting he's not really a child."

They drank their weak tea, ate their biscuits, listened to Teddy make unintelligible happy noises. Together they waited for Severus to come home.

Only this time, they waited in vain.


	12. Side Story: Costumeries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: costumes to make a boy, a man, a person [A Halloween Side Story]  
> Challenge: 1 Week Challenge: Costumes (at lupin_snape comm LJ)  
> Rating: PG  
> Summary: Ding! Ding! A package for Remus and Teddy Lupin  
> Warnings: Unbetaed, possibly AU re: Snape's childhood.  
> Word Count: ±1,880 words.  
> Disclaimer: Not mine, I'm just borrowing them for my twisted means.

It's been a week since Severus's kidnapping and they've been on a wild goose chase ever since.

Another night, another dead end, Remus returned to Andromeda's tired and angry and confused. The house was dark, its occupants already asleep. In the silence, Remus could hear Andromeda's faint snoring and Teddy's music box tinkling away by the boy's crib.

Weary, he sat down on the chair next to the fireplace, watched the small fire in it made shadows dance around the room. Andromeda had left tea, kept warm by a simple charm, and a plate of simple sandwich on the table next to the chair. There was also a brown-papered package and a note.

Pouring himself a cup of tea, he reached for the note, his name written across the top in Andromeda's hasty handwriting.

_A Hogwarts owl came by a few days ago with this package. I keep forgetting to give it to you, what with all the rushing around over the past few days. I hope it's nothing urgent._

He didn't understand why his heart pounded wildly when he pulled the package into his lap, all but tearing the brown paper apart. There was a white box inside, and by the time he lifted the lid away, he was faint with anticipation. Could the box hold the answer to Severus's disappearance? His kidnappers? His whereabouts?

The lid slid onto the floor, joining brown paper and twine.

There was another note, nestled between piles of fabric.

* * *

_Lupin, _the note read, in Severus's "I-refuse-to-have-a-little-boy's-handwriting-but-what-can-I-do?" scrawl.

_As you know, Poppy has moved me from my old rooms to a room closer to hers. _

* * *

Remus was slightly disappointed, it seems that the package wouldn't offer any clue regarding Severus's disappearance. His heartbeat slowed, renewed fatigue ran through his body. He leant back into his chair and read on, the package balanced precariously on his lap

* * *

_Better ventilation and easier for her to keep an eye on my condition. I'll have you know that this is very irritating. And that the new rooms are smaller than what I'm used to, it is even more irritating._

_When organising all my belongings for the move (and I'm still, until the time of this writing, surprised at how much I've kept all these years--and I'm distributing them to people I thought would like to have them, or be kind enough to provide a place for them), I found these and thought of Teddy (how could I not since you've been prattling without pause about the child as if he's another second coming like Potter). _

_They are old, you'll notice, but quite well-preserved, I should think. They come in several sizes but the smallest ones should fit your son at his current age..._

* * *

Black woolen fabric, frayed around the edges, tiny bat wings with charms weaved into it, fluttering faintly. Charmed bobble-antennaes of a bee hooded-baby robe, with faded black and yellow stripes. A green and silver caterpillar baby bunting, made from some warm magical fabrics.

There are several more, judging from how they were piled.

* * *

_My mother wasn't the only Prince to 'taint the bloodline', so to speak. In fact, she did so following the footsteps of her distant cousin, one from the lesser branch of the Prince family (thus less publicity and lesser-known in the gossip world). But, unlike my mother, my aunt married better, went off with some world-travelling, self-styled nomadic American muggle._

_She was also a bit barren, and therefore looked at me as something like her child-by-proxy. She loved to knit and sew, what do you expect from a woman named Vestirza, after all? These were all her doing, as she liked to dress up even as an adult witch, traipsing through muggle neighbourhoods for sweets with me as bait, equally and as horrendously dressed up. _

_She had later told me, having a toddler in her arms got her many sweets. She had a sweet tooth you see, and candies of the sorts she liked were hard to come by during her many travels. _

* * *

The bleak house at one corner of Spinner's End hadn't always been so bleak. It was even curiously bright whenever Vestirza Taylor (nee Prince) swept through its door, when she wasn't on her around-the-world jaunts with her husband.

"How are you, Eileen?" she asked, as they exchanged hugs and kisses of welcome, her accent already watered down by the many foreign languages she now speak (though imperfectly), especially the American twang she caught from her husband.

"As fine as I can be," the younger of the two Prince girls replied, ushering her cousin to the kitchen. "Where is your dear husband?"

"At home, decorating," the taller of the two answered, her fingers already reaching for a toffee apple. "Which reminds me, where is your son? May I see him?"

"Asleep," Eileen replied, pointing at the crib in the far corner of the kitchen with a toffee stick. "Oh, have I thanked you for the lovely crib? I can't recall that I have."

"No matter, dearie," Vestirza answered with a small laugh. "I'm glad you like it. Picked it up in an estate auction in this charming muggle village in Southern France. I should take you there some time, you'll adore it!"

Eileen didn't offer any reply, sitting next to her son's crib, running her fingers over his smooth brow.

Vestirza frowned, then realisation dawned, "Oh! Of course, that horrible husband of yours! If he doesn't want to travel, he can always let you and Severus travel! It's not like he'll be paying for it! Richard's been wanting to have you both on our trips!" She stood up, crossed the short distance to her cousin and laid a hand one hunched shoulder. "You've only been with him for a year and already I can see you're not happy here. Eileen, it's not a bad thing to leave, you know? I'll introduce you to one of Richard's friends. Completely charming, completely dependable."

"Vezza!" Eileen's voice rose indignantly. "How could you! I'll never be unfaithful! It's... Tobias is having a hard time right now, the mill... Oh you know. I've told you. It'll get better. It's part of married life you know, it can't all be roses and smiles."

"But..."

"Just because you and your husband are all about juvenile pursuits, doesn't mean..." Eileen sighed, she sent an apologetic look at Vezza who looked rather scandalised. "Just... I'm... Well, couples have their problems, it's just rough seas for us right now. But it can't all be bad in the long run, can it?"

"You can't even do magic in this house! What are you thinking?" Vezza hissed, drawing a deep breath to launch into another tirade. But before she could get another word out, Severus woke up with a loud wail.

"Your despicable muggle of a husband even threw that bunting I made for Severus!" Vezza said, rather indignant in with a smidgen of righteous fury, as Eileen tended to her son.

"He was only surprised. It's not everyday you see a tiger-shaped baby bunting shaking its whiskers at you," Eileen replied. "Anyway, I still have it, in my trunk."

Vezza picked Severus up from Eileen's arm. The child, recognising his aunt's scent and touch, coo-ed his own version of a sleepy welcome. His aunt laughed gaily, hugged him close to her well-endowed bosom. "I want to borrow your son."

"Whatever for?"

"There's this delightful tradition in America, to celebrate All-Hallows Eve. Nothing so dreary as our version of Souling, mind you. Exceptionally delightful, I must say," Vezza said, bouncing little Severus up and down, making little twirls and a small dance across the small kitchen. "Works better with kids around, I've found. And the street where Richard's parents live gives out the best sweets and candies." Severus gurgled and made happy noises as his aunt swept him in a wide arc.

* * *

_I was not a year old when I first travelled by portkey. Even though I threw up on my aunt's expensive blouse and was rather ill for a few days afterwards, it was quite an achievement, considering it was a continent-hopping portkey ride. I recovered just in time for my first Halloween treat. She dressed me in the caterpillar bunting, as enclosed in the package. I understand it was quite a warm piece of apparel, suitably so as it was an unusually cold Last Day of October. _

* * *

When he was three, they had to portkey from inside the small, bare larder, just as a drunk Tobias walked through the house, Eileen vainly trying to stop her husband from opening the larder door.

That year, Aunt Vezza made him an Igor costume, small black waistcoat, small black pants, small black hood with harmless lightning charms making small harmless lightning strikes. The unsuspecting muggles thought it was a great way to use Christmas lights.

* * *

_I thought it'll be something that Teddy would like. But I wouldn't want to be presumptuous. I'll understand if you think that these costumes are unsuitable for Teddy, or that you simply do not wish to receive anything from me. _

_I am only providing these because I cannot think of anyone else to give them to, as I loathe to throw them away, but at the same time have no use of them. To be quite honest, I don't know what possessed me to keep them all these years. _

_They are now yours to do as you please. You may use them, give them to others, or simply throw them away. In the bin, into the fire, or whatever method you choose. Just note that they have magical properties weaved through them, and though they're generally benign spells and charms they should be disposed off responsibly._

_-Snape._

* * *

Remus found seven sets of costumes in various sizes of small. The smallest ones would fit Teddy quite well, the bigger ones would fit the now small Severus.

Remus sighed as he replaced all the costumes back in the box and placed the box next to the plate of uneaten sandwich. His tea had gone cold and too bitter as the leaves were left to soak too long.

He thought about how Teddy would look like in the caterpillar bunting, and thought of cajoling Severus to wear that bat costume with those magically fluttering wings.

First, he needed to find Severus, needed to make sure that Severus was safe and sound, not a hair out of place. Then he needed to thank Severus for the gift, not just the costumes, but more importantly that Severus trusted, liked, possibly respected him enough to share those childhood memories, however severely and impersonally phrased within the longish letter.

* * *

The fire in the fireplace had long died. Dawn slowly breaking outside, blushing pink and red and purple blue bruises seen through dusty windows.

Soon Teddy would wake up wailing on top of his lungs.

Andromeda's door would bang open as her slippered feet would hurry across rickety floorboards.

Sun rose, slowly, languidly, an indolent ruler once again greeting his daytime subjects. Warmth and light chased away despair, rekindled the dying embers of hope.

Remus winged a prayer, a fervent hope that Severus would soon be returned to them, safe, hale and sound.


	13. Transfigurations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: transfiguring hope  
> Challenge: #305: Five Senses: Taste  
> Word Count: 5 x 100  
> Rating: PG  
> Pairing: None.  
> Summary: It's either waiting or making your own salvation. And the salvation comes in many forms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: (this happens before the Halloween Side Story of the previous chapter). One of these days I'm going to shuffle the side story to another entry altogether, since it's confusing me :D This story is already very weird and odd from a storyline and timeline POV, I don't want to make it even more confusing. _Thank you to all you wonderful reviewers and all your kind words. They are all very very very appreciated and have made my day too!_

There was a caravan carriage parked by the secluded roadside and the children were piled onto it. Most of them were aged around Perry, others were as small as Severus was.

Perry climbed into the caravan first, but a tall moustached man snatched Severus away to the side. The man didn't say anything, merely turning Severus's face from side to side, Severus tried very hard not to squirm whilst being rudely poked and prodded.

"Well, we'll see what that wretched Lupin would do for you," the man said, as he shoved Severus back into the caravan, laughing as he did.

* * *

The last child was finally loaded into the caravan, weeping and sobbing terribly. Soon after, another man, his features obscured, made his rounds, counting the children and making them drink something from a large-ish flask.

The man's wand was tucked carelessly into his robe pocket, and Severus would not be a Snape if he didn't use the chance to filch it, good and proper. He then answered Perry's raised eyebrow with one of his own. He managed to hide it just in time.

A flask was shoved under his nose, "Drink!"

_Never trust potions you don't make yourself_, he lamented.

* * *

He didn't recognise the potion at first. But as his tongue registered the sour metallic-prickliness of it, the cloying smell that pained the tops of his nose, he knew.

It was one of those brews parents fed children with hyperactive magic, to control or nullify their wild abilities. It wasn't so hard to brew, as such they were usually sold with artificial flavourings that children usually like. Whoever brewed this piddle they're shoving down his throat didn't care for taste, obviously.

_No wonder I couldn't do even the simplest spells. _They must've fed him this potion when he was unconscious.

* * *

This new dose would need another half hour before taking full effect. As soon as the man left and they were alone again, he took out the stolen wand and a small piece of rope he found on the caravan floor.

"You can do magic with someone else's wand?" Perry asked.

"Something I learnt," he answered almost rudely. He hoped to Salazar that he could still do proper magic.

"He must be a genius!" someone said.

"Of course he can! Didn't you hear? His dad's a war hero! He's Lupin's son!"

He would've hexed them if he wasn't so busy.

* * *

No transfigured owl. Not a message-carrying avian of any shape or form.

The rope stayed a rope.

Only now it had somehow sprouted small wings and was hissing at him.

He didn't have the gift of Parseltongue (or Transfigurations, in all honesty), but he wasn't Head of Slytherin for so long for nothing.

Severus talked haltingly, awkwardly, almost losing hope as he felt magic draining out, bitter bile crawling up the back of his throat.

But as the caravan moved, Flying Rope Snake slipped out and took to the skies.

A slip. A wobble. Severus prayed the magic would hold.


	14. Potions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: a few drops for understanding  
> Challenge: #305: Five Senses: Taste  
> Word Count: 5 x 100  
> Rating: PG  
> Pairing: None.  
> Summary: there's a potion for everything

When Flying Rope Snake finally arrived at Hogwarts, it was received first with a kind of relief, then incredulity. It didn't have a letter with it, neither did it speak in human language. It kept hissing and looked as pointedly as only an animated rope could.

"He certainly didn't make rescuing him any easier," Poppy Pomfrey eyed the rope from a safe distance, having already been lashed around her ankles once. "If only there's a Parseltongue dictionary handy."

The rope continued to nip and lash at the baffled wizards and witches It aimed at Remus Lupin, in particular.

* * *

Remus had headed to Hogwarts like a wolf with its tail on fire. The day Severus failed to return, an owl had delivered a note. _We have your son_, it had said. Remus, still bouncing Teddy on his lap had been ready to write it off as a joke. It took a while before everything sunk in.

Tea cup slipped from his hand and fell with a spectacular crash on the floor. Andromeda was beside him just in time to take Teddy in her arms as he raced to the loo and heaved all this breakfast, lunch, and high tea.

* * *

Remus cautiously reached out and took the rope snake into his arms. "Clues, please leave clues," he hoped. Severus would surely leave a clue, benign and unassuming so as not to tip the bad people off. (not that a Flying Rope Snake is benign or unassuming).

He looked at it, and it seemed to look back at him. A flutter of wings, as if to say, _Look here you stupid wizard. Oh for the sake of all good and hissy. _

Remus, wise to the ways of Severus, looked at the fluttery wings to find the solution to this Parseltongue problem.

* * *

_Look Potter's Way or Fyver Cross_, was written on those wings.

Potter was unreachable, having gone to parts unknown with his friends to restore their teen spirit.

"Fyver Cross?" Minerva asked.

"Fyver Cross?" Poppy added.

"Fyver Cross," Remus repeated. It did sound rather familiar.

"_So Severus,"_ _he had asked as they sat back against the tree, remnants of lunch spread between them. _

"_What?"_

_Remus showed him the crossword puzzle "What, when brewed properly, allowed the drinker to understand Parseltongue? Seven words, starts with SALA. Not Salazar, I've tried."_

"_You can't brew Salazar, silly. It's blasphemy." Severus shifted. "Let me see."_

* * *

They ran pell-mell to Severus's workroom.

_It's rather difficult to brew,_ Severus had explained that day, abandoning all hope for a nap_, as the ingredients are hard to find._

Past the row of cauldrons, to the potions cabinet.

_Salacca, the main ingredient, also called Snake fruit. Then essence of pearl onions, various flowers, styrax, mermaid tears. A terracotta cauldron. Brewed, incanted…_

"_Do you have it?" No point in asking if Severus could make it._

_A huff. "What kind of question is that?"_

The astringent taste of the Salacca. The cloyingly sweet perfume of flowers.

The Rope Snake insulting dim-witted wizards.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Possibly] useless note:  
> The inspiration for the Salacca potion comes from "The Translation Konyaku" from the famed Doraemon cartoon series. But if the Konyaku was a universal translator, this one, since it is from the Snake Fruit can only provide an approximate understanding of Parseltongue.
> 
> As the Salacca comes from the Indomalaya region, I thought to make the accompanying ingredients come from there also. The _kembang tujuh rupa _(literally seven types of flowers, consisting of the _kembang telon_, the tri-flower, triumvirate: Roses, Jasmine, and Cananga_,_ as well as four others including Michelia buds). What muggles called "Air mata duyung" (or 'mermaid tears') are actually extracted from the sea cow, Dugong, but of course in the wizarding world it would be real mermaid tears, wouldn't it. Styrax, or _menyan_, is the ever-present incense.
> 
> (http://www. musangsx. org/2009/04/28/warung-kembang-sajen/) for more information of the mystical part of their everyday lives.


	15. Trails

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: follow your nose to wherever  
> Challenge: #306: Five Senses: Smell  
> Word Count: 5 x 100  
> Rating: PG  
> Pairing: None.  
> Summary: points of departure

Turned out they didn't have to brew the potion from scratch.

Of course Severus would have the potion stashed away somewhere, in a vial stored in a worn walnut box with other vials. The fading label at one side of the box said: "_Experiments &amp; Other Somethings_". There were empty vials, half-filled vials, full vials.

"Looks old," Minerva commented as she picked up a half-full vial labelled "Salacca #3 (!!)". "Do you think it's gone off?"

"Couldn't be any worse than anything any of us brews," Poppy added, thoughtfully. "If anything goes wrong, the Cure-All is within reach. And Bezoar."

* * *

"Do you think this will make me understand Parseltongue?" Remus asked. "And while we're at it, why am I the one drinking it?"

The two women glared at him.

"Do you think this will make me fluent in Parseltongue?" _Will it make me Slytherin?_ "Will it react with my werewolf physiology?" he asked instead, eyeing the potion balefully. "How long will the potion last? Do you think we need more?"

"Why don't you drink it, and we'll see?"

"You _do _want to know what message that rope has for us, don't you?"

He uncorked the vial, drank the rather-pleasant-smelling potion.

* * *

_Stupid slow wizards. Small Odd-Accented Severus said wizards clever but rather dim. What woe. Ah, hardship, your cruel white hand… What are you staring at, wolf? Oh… you understand me now? _

"Oh! The potion worked. Somewhat," Remus wondered why he was surprised. This was Severus's potion after all.

_Well, I don't understand you. Funny lowly wizard language. Nevermind that. Listen, that dark boy wanted me to lead you to where he's held. You follow. No questions, right? Not that I can understand you. Ah, hardship. _

Remus grabbed the rope and all but ran out of the workroom to the broomshed.

* * *

The old stone house stood in a large stretch of bogland somewhere in Wales. It was empty and his footsteps echoed within it.

He could pick out different scents, the strongest of which smelt something like fear. He tried to catch a scent of Severus, but found that he couldn't. What he could pick out was thin and rather unremarkable. The occupants of this place had left quite a while ago it seemed.

The rope, coiled around his left hand, tugged him forecefully towards the dirt road out the back entrance.

Remus saw the track marks left by the caravan.

* * *

At the other end of those tracks, Severus sat huddled with the other children. He'd given up trying to mark every twist and turn of the caravan's journey.

A few of them had sobbed themselves to sleep, others had taken to whispering to one another. Severus didn't have the energy to try to eavesdrop.

Perry'd finally gone to sleep, after a fruitless monologue predicting their destination.

There were no windows on the caravan's canvas walls, the door flap shut close. There wasn't a hole large enough to look out from.

But, above the stale humidity, Severus could smell the sea.


	16. Thoughts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: I Thought You...  
> Challenge: #306: Five Senses: Smell  
> Word Count: 5 x 100  
> Rating: PG-13  
> Pairing: None.  
> Summary: Rope Snake makes some unpleasant discoveries about the Differences of Species. Remus does a lot of Thinking.

They followed the dirt path for some while until they came to a large cobbled road. To make things worse, the road immediately diverged.

_Which way?_

"I don't know," Remus said, shrugging.

_You can't smell them?_

He shook his head.

_But you're a wolf!_

"It doesn't work that way!" Remus exclaimed, this misconception was really trying his nerves. "And it's too far to the full moon anyway!"

_I... don't understand a word you say. But I think you mean you can't smell them like good wolves should._

For a previously-inanimate object, the rope could be really annoying, Remus thought.

* * *

Remus tried sniffing and inhaling deeply at many points of the road, but each spot offered very little clue. It's just been too long since they passed this way, and or maybe those goons were clever enough to create a misdirection.

_Stop sniffing!_

Remus stopped, turning to face the rope, sunning lazily on a rock.

_Use your tongue._

"What?" He wondered whether he heard correctly.

_It'll help you scent better, you dimwit!_

Remus stared blankly, unable to figure out what the rope's trying to tell him.

_Tiamat's Tits! Stick your tongue out. Yes, like th... Wait. Your tongue's all wrong._

* * *

_What? So you don't have forked tongue?_

"No," Remus answered. Perplexed, curious.

_You don't have scent holes on the roof of your mouth?_

"No."

_You don't lick the air or the ground to smell things better?_

"No," Remus said, quite amused.

_You can't do all that?_

Remus shook his head again.

_What an inferior race. One wonders why you survived at all._

Remus glared at the rope. He was past amused and was well on the way to Irritated. "Do _you_ have any ideas, then? Since we've established how impotent I am?"_  
__  
Oh! Now you've decided to grow a spine._

* * *

Were Severus here, Remus thought, he'd be overjoyed. He'd finally grown a spine, which according to Severus, was always conspicuously absent from his lycanthrophic physiology.

"We'll use the broom," Remus said finally, gesturing an approximation of flying on a broom. "We'll fly one way," he pointed one way, "if that yielded nothing," he crossed his forefingers, shook his head to emphasise, "then, we'll fly the other way," he pointed the other way.

_But of course you, in all your wisdom, left the bloody broom back at the hut!_

Sometimes Remus would really like to chop the rope to tiny pieces.

* * *

Chopping it might not be a good idea, Remus thought as they walked back to the house. It might just turn into many little mouthy rope pieces. And if his luck held, they would be squeaky to boot.

So Remus thought about Teddy, Severus, and good things to calm himself down.

_I bet Severus can lick his scent_.

"No he can't," Remus said, quietly under his breath.

_I bet proper Slytherins can._

"No they can't," Remus murmured.

_I think I see a fellow snake!_

"No you d..."

There's a fat snake slithering their way, Rope Snake already hissing in delight.

* * *

..tbc

PS: I think Ropey is veering precariously to the Mary Sue territory. *sobs* I didn't intend it to be that way tho, honest! I don't think it's even a girl.


	17. Friends and Allies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Friends and Allies  
> Challenge: #306: Five Senses: Smell  
> Word Count: 5 x 100  
> Rating: PG-13  
> Pairing: None.  
> Summary: The RagTag War Council convenes.

Seemed that Severus wasn't the only one kidnapped.

_So, you followed your master's scent here?_ Rope asked.

_Not really, I followed my master's thoughts_, the fat snake—Reginald—answered, slithering down the path with some difficulty, hampered by his great weight.

Having been a familiar to a wealthy boy all his life, Reginald wasn't used to the fatigue of long journeys. Rather, it was used to lazing in the sun, eating the fattest rats. Until one day his little master failed to bring elevenses to him. Even during the thick of the war, his master never failed to feed him!

* * *

_But I lost the scent of his thought somewhere around here. It seemed that he just disappeared into thin air!_ Reginald lamented. He's tired, hungry, and missing his master terribly.

"You can smell your master's thought?" Remus asked incredulously. "Read them?" He never really understood the bonds between master and familiar.

_Not the way Legilimenses or mindreaderers can,_ Reginald replied. _I love my master very much. Have you never had any familiars? Surely…_

_Oh please. He's a wolf!_ Rope interjected, rather condescendingly. _His familiar is himself_.

Remus opened the door to the house, ignoring pitying looks being sent his way.

* * *

Inside the house Kingsley, Minerva, Filius, and a couple of Aurors were already waiting. They ushered him into the sitting room.

"You've attracted many snakes to your side, it seems," Kingsley observed, amused.

"You said Reginald could communicate with his master?" Minerva asked.

"Only to an extent. He could pick traces of his master's soul scent, or some such," Remus said, shrugging. Honestly, he didn't have a clue what Reginald meant.

"But Reginald lost contact with his master?" an Auror asked.

"Round about here, yes," Remus replied. "It's as if there's a shroud being pulled between him and his master."

* * *

"So now we have two missing children?" It was Remus's turn to ask.

"Not just the two," Kingsley answered. "Many children have gone missing since Riddle's death. Mostly orphans, that's why it took a long time for us to understand the gravity of this situation."

"Severus could be one of the victims," Minerva said.

Remus looked at Minerva, gesturing at Kingsley and the Aurors, "So they… know…"

"Relax," one of the Aurors raised his hand placatingly "We're on your side."

"And I'm working to clear Severus's name," Kingsley added. "Only it's not so easy with all the enemies he's made."

* * *

They talked—or at least tried to talk—strategy. They finally decided that Remus should follow the trail, and the others will stay behind and search for clues in the house. Two-way mirrors were exchanged and calibrated, goodbyes and goodlucks were delivered with much hope.

Remus bent down to pick Reginald, toasty-warm from the sun.

As he stepped out of the room, broom in hand, eager to escape to fresher air, something wrapped itself around his ankle. He looked down. As did Reginald and the other occupants in the room.

_Aren't you forgetting something?_

"No."

_But... I... You..._


	18. Minds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: a mind of my own  
> Challenge: #307: Five Senses: Touch  
> Word Count: 6 x 100  
> Rating: PG  
> Pairing: None.  
> Summary: to bring or not to bring

_You must take me with you!_

"I don't see why I must," Remus replied. "You were only supposed to lead me here. You've nothing to offer beside that message. You've done naught else but belittle me at every turn. Frankly, I'm wrecked as I am. I don't need a constant reminder of my failures." He closed his eyes and let out a loud sigh.

_Well, you can't expect me to think_, the rope replied haughtily, unmoved. _I'm simply not made for complex thoughts!_

"And when the magic holding you runs out, I'll be stuck with a useless bit of rope."

* * *

The caravan that carried Severus was still on its course.

Over time, he'd let himself be hugged by Perry. They're now sitting shoulder to shoulder, Perry's arms looped around his. He'd almost rebuked Perry for it, had wanted to tell Perry he needed no comfort because he's much more than this six-year-old shell he's stuck in.

But he quickly recognised Perry's need to be 'useful', Perry's need to take his mind away from worry and fear. Honestly, letting himself be held by a child to keep said child calm wasn't such a bad assignment. He'd been on worse missions before.

* * *

They had only stopped once since they left the house behind, for food, water, and another swig of that nasty, magic-taker of a potion.

But time must've passed considerably since then, as Severus felt tiny flickers of magic returning, leaping like eager flames over his heart. He always welcomed the warmth and familiarity of it.

No time to wallow in melancholy, though. They'd be stopping soon, he's sure, the big bullies would come in, grab at them, the way that made Severus's skin crawl, then feed them some more of that potion.

He needed to get to work now.

* * *

He'd found out, rather by accident, that he had unwittingly made a tenuous link with the flying rope snake he created. Bored out of his mind, his thoughts had wandered to the rope, wondering whether it'd succeeded in delivering the message.

He was beyond surprised when he heard Remus's voice in his head. At first, he thought he was hallucinating, but quickly deduced it wasn't some delusion.

_I'm such a genius,_ Severus mentally patted himself on the back.

He hypothesised that if he had enough magic, he could probably communicate with Remus through the rope.

There's no harm in trying.

* * *

He still had the stolen wand, stupid goons didn't even realise it had gone missing. It was warm in his hand, him having sat upon it much like a hen roosting upon her precious egg. The wand was all odd angles, awkward to touch, and didn't suit him in any way, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

He sat up straighter, closed his eyes and concentrated on the magical link.

He could vaguely hear Remus's voice. Seemed like the wolf's ranting and complaining about something.

_Please, let this work_, he hoped.

_Lupin! _he called out mentally. _Lupin! It's Snape. Lupin! Dunderhead!_

* * *

"…so no you can't come with u…" His rant was cut short as the rope hissed urgently, haltingly, like trying to communicate over a faulty two-way mirror.

_Lup'n… Sn'pe… Dnd'h'ad!_

"Snape?" Lupin ventured. "Severus?"

_Yes! Can yo… ar… me, ...pin?_

"Not quite," Lupin crouched and took the rope into his hands.

_Lstn…not…nough… ...ime. ...Sea!_

"Sea?"

_Dund...ead… Sea! Smells ...ke sea!_

"Smells like sea?"

No reply.

"Wait! Severus!" he gripped hard, letting coarse rope dig into his palm.

_Ow! Damn werewolf, not so hard!_

Remus threw the rope onto the floor in surprise.

_So now, will you take me with you?_


	19. Caravansary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: caravansary, an interlude  
> Challenge: #307: Five Senses: Touch  
> Word count: 3 x 100  
> Rating: PG  
> Pairing: None  
> Summary: the caravan stops finally

Talking through a bloody rope was tiring. He didn't even know whether the rope, and therefore Remus, was near or far. He hoped not too far. _Tired, so tired_.

Severus felt Perry's arm tighten around his hand holding the wand. He shifted his head, too tired to properly look up.

"What were you doing?" Perry peeled Severus's fingers off the wand. Fatigue had frozen Severus's fingers into a claw curl around this stranger's wand. Thumb, forefinger, middle finger, the wand fell easily into Perry's other hand.

"Trying to talk," Severus said, no higher than a whisper.

"Try to rest now."

* * *

Perry tucked that wand back underneath Severus. There's a slight groove in the wood there, a tight fit, but it camouflaged the stolen wand perfectly, so long nobody looked at it too closely. "You're very brave, aren't you?" Perry remarked absently, patting Severus on the shoulders. "Thank you."

Perry's offhanded assessment shouldn't affect him in any way Severus thought, as he involuntarily shifted closer to the warmth. He twisted his fingers, now very small and despicably incapable of most feats, in the folds of Perry's robe, his cheek grazing across coarse fabric.

Had anyone called him brave before?

_Oh, whatever._

* * *

Severus didn't know how long it was, but the caravan finally jerked to an abrupt stop. Perry's hand tightened automatically around him, keeping him from tumbling and rolling across the floor.

There were movements outside, rough voices and a sense of foreboding. The children in the caravan cowered involuntarily.

Severus squirmed, reaching blindly for the wand, trying to slide it into his boots.

He managed to put his clothes back into order just as someone yanked the caravan flap open.

"Out!"

And the children scampered out.

Severus grimaced as a pair of rough hands dragged him and hurried him forward.


	20. Onwards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: another leg of the journey  
> Challenge: #308: The 'Other Family'  
> Word count: 5 x 100  
> Rating: PG  
> Pairing: None  
> Summary: no rest for the kidnapped, and some clues left behind.  
> Note: Aunt Vezza first appeared in Ch.12 Side Story: Costumeries.

Once all the children had been emptied out of the caravan, they were each given a piece of bread, and another dose of potion. Then they were arranged into one long line in front of a tree.

_Curious_, Severus thought, as he chewed his bread. It was stale but it chased the foulness of the potion away. Curious, he repeated in his head. Why would they be lined up in front of a tree?

Unless...

Recognition dawned. He looked up, could not stop himself from gasping as the child at the head of the line touched the tree and disappeared.

* * *

_A portkey!_

An odd choice of portkey, he thought at first. But he'd encountered a lot of odd portkeys before. Mostly during his first childhood visiting his Aunt Vezza in America. American wizards do have the strangest sense of humour. And to think that Aunt Vezza had once offered to raise him, too. The horror!

_No time for nostalgia!_ he berated himself. A sudden urgency built up in him. _I need some way to tell Lupin!_

He concentrated, trying to calm his frantic mind, but found that the potion was working against him establishing connection with the rope. _Damn and blast!_

* * *

The line moved steadily forward, as more and more children touched the tree and disappear. He looked around, eyes darting to find a way to escape, but there were too many of those mean-looking adults.

"And what are you looking at?"

Severus turned around and saw a man approach.

"I... I need to pee."

"Damn kid," the man muttered and grabbed Severus by the collar, dragged him to a nearby bush. "Here! Do it here."

Snape looked incredulously, but the man merely laughed, "Shy, are we?"

Before he could answer, Severus heard Perry's voice, "I want to pee too!"

* * *

"Where do you think they're taking us?" Perry asked in a low voice as he stood next to Severus.

"I don't know," he replied.

"Do you think we'll see our families again?"

"I don't know."

"I miss my father. Do you miss you father?"

"No..." Severus answered. How could he miss Tobias Snape? Good riddance, he thought. Until he realised Perry had meant Lupin. Everyone here thought he's Lupin's son for some stupid reason. Now. Would he miss Lupin? "Maybe," he amended, off-handedly wondering what it would be like to have Lupin as a father.

_How absurd_, he decided.

* * *

When he thought no one was looking, Severus dropped his handkerchief, crumpled into a tight ball, into the bush. He kicked some stray twigs and leaves to cover it.

Perry scratched a rough, shallow arrow on the dirt, pointing at the tree.

They looked at each other and shared a secretive grin.

Soon, their minder dragged them back to the line. Soon, it was his turn to touch the tree.

As he felt the familiar tug, he prayed that Lupin would spot the clues and was smart enough to understand them.

Severus wouldn't want a stupid man for a father.

\---


	21. Still Onwards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: another leg of the journey, 2  
> Challenge: #308: The 'Other Family'  
> Word count: 5 x 100  
> Rating: PG  
> Pairing: None  
> Summary: Rope found a family for himself, as Remus finally meet... two someones.

Remus flew with Reginald and Rope wrapped around his neck like makeshift scarves. Reginald made his neck warm, for which Remus was grateful. Rope was just scraping annoyingly at his collar.

They flew over the fork of the road where Remus and Rope had their small argument earlier that day. Remus's breath hitched a little, because some of Rope's accusations were sort of true. Remus steadied his flight and turned to the general direction of the sea.

_Hey wolf_, Rope called.

“What?”

_Sorry about earlier_.

“What did you say?” Remus asked, clearly amused.

_I'm not repeating myself. You're not deaf_.

* * *

Rope examined the Auror who flew alongside them. The Auror was rather tall and very quiet. _He can be George_, Rope remarked to Remus.

“What?” Remus asked, looking straight ahead.

_You can be John. That's your middle name isn't it, wolf?_

“I'm afraid I don't follow.”

_Reginald can be Paul, I suppose_. Rope decided, nudging the fat snake that was fast falling asleep. _And I can be the Starr._

“What are you on about?” Remus felt irritation rise.

_I am he! As you are he! As you are me! And we are all together_, Rope recited. _Together like a family!_

* * *

“Not for long, if I can help it,” Remus muttered.

They flew for quite some time and Remus's arse was slowly feeling the strain of flying. Reginald was asleep, Rope was as chatty as ever, and George the Auror was as silent as ever.

As he wondered about Severus's whereabouts, Reginald suddenly jerked quite awake, nearly choking Remus in the process. _Master! I can feel him!_

_You can? _Rope hissed as Remus tried to right his broom again. _Are we on the right direction?_

_Yessssss...._ it was the closest thing to a purr Remus had ever heard off a snake.

* * *

_Master was here! I smells him! _Reginald hissed, frantic and excited.

“Seems like they all ended up here,” Remus remarked, noting that the tracks ended here, the abandoned caravan, and no tracks leading out of this clearing.

Severus needn't be so worried after all. Remus and George the Auror found the handkerchief and the arrow that Perry scratched. They went to the tree and saw deep indentations underneath it, small footprints left by the children who went up to it.

“A portkey tree?” Remus asked. He touched the tree but nothing happened.

“Is it possible to trace the portkey's destination?”

* * *

They decided to Apparate back to the house, to report their findings and to arrange for a Tracer Team.

Back in the house, they found Minerva and Kingsley sitting with a man and a woman he didn't recognise. They all looked up at him.

“Ah, Remus, come. Let me introduce you to...”

“Merlin!” the woman exclaimed, rising onto her feet in a hurry, and all but ran towards Remus.

Lightning quick, long purple-nailed fingers grabbed the soiled handkerchief held loosely in Remus's hand.

“Oh! It's true! Poor, poor Severus!” she wailed shrilly, clutching the handkerchief close to her bosom.


	22. The Waiting/Crying Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: cry me a river  
> Challenge: #309: Wikipedia, Redux!  
> Word count: 5 x 100  
> Rating: PG  
> Pairing: None  
> Summary: Severus's helpful and unhelpful extended family.
> 
> Note: The challenge is: 'random article' option on Wikipedia. I clicked on it and got "Consortium of Collegiate Agricultural Organizations". I was like "what the?!!" at first. Apologies if it looked a tad bit forced into the storyline (some people say: a tad bit?! it's forced and it showed, but oh wells!). And as an echo of past week's Other Family challenge, this could be Severus's job if he were taken in by the Taylors from early on.

The woman cried for a long time, and when her bawling was reduced to mere hiccups, the round and jovial-looking man accompanying her spoke.

“I apologize. Vezza could be emotional sometimes.”

“Emotional?! This is Severus we’re talking about!” the woman screeched and resumed crying once more, clutching the handkerchief tightly in her hands. She had made it for Severus, a long time ago, but she could recognise her handywork anywhere.

“I’m Richard Taylor,” the man said, in that odd accent of frequent traveller. “Vezza is Severus’s aunt, from his mother’s side,” Richard said, shaking Remus’s hand firmly. “I’m her husband.”

* * *

Remus and Richard talked while Minerva and Shaklebolt tried to placate Vezza through tea and kind words.

Richard, when he wasn’t on his around the world jaunts, worked as a consultant for the Consortium of Collegiate Agricultural Organizations, particularly as a liaison between the muggle and magical factions of the Consortium. And now that the war in Britain was over, he had the mind to invite Severus across the pond to help with their Breeding of Magical Plants Liaison Group.

“I may be a muggle, but I’m not close-minded as Tobias Snape,” Richard said, spitting the name out in ditaste.

* * *

“How long has he been missing?” Vezza asked, her eyes red and puffy, her breath sketchy.

“A few days?” Remus answered. Days and nights had melded together ever since then.

“And he’s now small?” Richard asked, amused and possibly a little terrified.

“Yes,” this time Minerva answered. She had tried to explain the mechanism of the spell they put on Severus, but it was all too complicated for distraught minds to comprehend at the moment.

“And to think that nobody would tell us any of this, if we hadn’t come to see him,” Vezza lamented, launching into another sobbing spree.

* * *

“So, what can we do to help?” Richard asked as he cradled Vezza in his arms. “Oh for crying out loud, woman!” he exclaimed as the woman blew her nose into his shirt.

“We still have to wait for the Tracer Team,” Shaklebolt said.

“I can put a word out also,” Richard said, tapping a finger on his chin. He had many contacts, from his travels and from his ties with the Consortium. If Severus and the other children were taken to a countryside, or anyplace near an agricultural community… _It’s a long shot,_ he thought, _but worth a try._

* * *

“This would never happen if Eileen had let us take Severus with us,” Vezza said, voice rising. Everyone in the room, including Rope and Reginald, recoiled in anticipation of another bout of crying.

“There, there,” Richard patted her head. “There’s no use crying over spilled milk.”

“Severus doesn’t even like milk!”

Richard sighed a put-upon sigh and looked up for moral support. Minerva gave a wavering smile, Remus managed to smile sincerely, Shaklebolt smiled then ducked his head to read the papers he brought with him.

Rope and Reginald ignored them, jostling for prime spot in front of the fire.


	23. A Wrinkle, This Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: a wrinkle in time.  
> Challenge: #310: The Unwritten Pairing  
> Word count: 6 x 100  
> Rating: PG-13  
> Pairing: Greyback and Snape  
> Summary: Severus runs into someone familiar.
> 
> Note: The challenge was to pair Snape with a character I've never paired him before. I've never written about Greyback before, so I hope he's not too OOC.

Portkey travel deposited the children in a sort of large room – a small hall – with sturdy-looking brick walls, no windows and one door at the far end. It was well-watched, too, by big men that scared many of the children. _No way to leave this place save by walks through walls, I suppose._

The door opened and someone walked in. Obstructed by those mean-looking men, Severus couldn’t see the newcomer’s face clearly.

“Where is he, then?”

In the end, Severus didn’t have to see the face to recognise the voice. _Greyback!_

_Werewolves._ Severus thought morosely. _They just won't stay dead._

* * *

Greyback looked at each of the scared, terrorised faces. They said they’d managed to catch Lupin’s pup. And though he was sure that Lupin’s pup was a mere baby, these minders told him that it wasn’t so.

The head poacher pointed out a boy at the far end of the room. _Looks nothing like Lupin_, he thought.

Black greasy hair. Pale sallow skin under the inadequate lighting of the room. Dark eyes, from the look of it. Defiant, through Greyback could sense a small amount fear running through that small rigid body. This boy reminded him of someone else entirely.

* * *

It had been in a room, equally inadequately illuminated. It was a small room that had looked like a storage room too, with the amount of things occupying every possible space.

“Voldemort said the potion is ready,” he had said as he navigated his way carefully.

“Kindly don’t run into anything that might kill us both,” came the reply.

“I’m not that stupid.”

“I thought your species was born stupid.”

In any other setting, he would’ve hexed the man. But spells in the middle of an active potions laboratory might be more troublesome than not. He had sat down instead.

* * *

As a general condition, werewolves didn’t have the chance of proper schooling (unlike that fancy-pantsy Lupin, he thought), and Greyback hadn’t had a use for it. Or so he thought. Watching Snape made the final stirring and bottling, it had been strangely mesmerising.

“Here,” Snape had said, thrusting a bottle into his line of sight. A slip of paper had followed. “Instructions. I wrote it so that even my first years could understand. I trust you’re not illiterate?” Snape had asked, one finely-shaped eyebrow rose in a sort-of challenge. “Now, you leave,” Snape finally said, turning back to his cauldrons.

* * *

He couldn't explain it. He had only thought of how interesting it would be to see this haughty, prideful man be brought down a peg or two. He didn’t know how it started, but he’d managed to pin Snape against his work table.

“High-and-mighty Death Eaters,” Greyback had growled, looking straight at those defiant eyes. “Always looking down at us. But you’re nothing without us.”

Snape had merely smiled, in that infuriating way of his. “You think too highly of yourself. _All _of you do.”

For some reason he had understood what Snape was insinuating and it made him furious.

* * *

They didn’t meet all that often. Only when Voldemort’d summoned him, when he’d deigned to answer those summons, and when Snape’d been around during those times. But every time they crossed path, a certain fascination had driven Greyback to corner Snape. _What would it look like to see a man fall from grace_, he’d wondered. But Snape’d never really fell.

Snape’d since then betrayed his master, reputedly died, and Greyback himself had been injured.

He didn’t count on seeing a spectre of the dead potions master in the small boy the minders said was Lupin’s pup.

_How interesting_, he thought.


	24. What Rhymes with Greyback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: what rhymes with… Greyback  
> Challenge: #311: Song  
> Word count: 6 x 100  
> Rating: PG-13  
> Summary: Mother Goose can't save your soul.

Severus looked up as a shadow loomed over him. _Still unable to shake the bad breath, I fear_, he thought, wisely keeping his counsel to himself.

“You’re Lupin’s pup, I hear?”

“Yes.” _For the moment. Though not permanently, I hope. _

“Do you have any siblings?”

“Not that I know of.” _Which is true. _

“And your mother is Nymphadora Tonks?”

Severus made a gesture that looked something like a nod. _Distasteful as it may be_, he thought.

“But didn’t they only marry last year?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“And here I thought Lupin was a spineless prim and proper,” Greyback said, laughing heartily.

* * *

Severus spun a feeble story about how he was born out of wedlock, and prayed that Greyback was still the stupid dunderhead of the yesteryear not to pick up on its feebleness. He’d have to think of a solid story later.

Listening to Greyback made derogatory comments about Lupin’s (alleged) promiscuity, Severus studied the man in front of him. Severus had noticed the heavy limp that Greyback now had, and the additional scars on visible surfaces.

He also recognised a gash of a scar around the jugular. Quite hidden and rather faint, unless you knew what you were looking for.

* * *

Severus knew, of course. He was the one who gave it to Greyback all those years ago, when he was still big.

It had been one of those nights. Voldermort had tasked him to make a potion for a rather curious affliction suffered by the werewolves. _Unsurprising_, Severus had thought, as wild werewolves never paid any attention to hygiene and what-not. _Filthy curs, the lot of them_. If it had been up to him, he’d let them waste away.

He hadn’t been able to complete his internal rambling when the workroom door opened to let in three of such werewolves.

* * *

“Ah. If it isn’t Little Jack Horner, Humpty Numpty and Wee Willy Winky,” Severus had greeted them, before returning to his cauldron.

“Shut it, Snape,” Greyback had growled.

“Yeah, you think you’re clever, yeah?” said a fat werewolf. “It’s Humpty Dumpty, you moron.”

“Is it?” Severus had asked, not looking up from his potions.

“_Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall, Humpt..._” the fat slob had started to sing, before being kicked into silence by the third werewolf.

“Is the potion ready?”

“You can’t rush it, Greyback. Unless you want dead werewolves on your head. Which would make me immensely happy.”

* * *

“Yea, you would, would you?” Fat Humpty Numpty had a quick temper and apparently a quicker hand too, grabbing at a nearby bottle and smashing it to the ground.

The crash had propelled Severus to Greyback’s side, paring knife in hand. In hindsight, hadn’t been a good idea to corner a werewolf with such a meagre utensil, but Severus had been livid and Greyback had been distracted and taken off-guard.

He had pressed the knife against Greyback’s jugular, drawing blood. "Please keep your boys in line,” he had said, cutting deeper. “Or they’ll need to get themselves a new Alpha.”

* * *

Snape had made sure that the wound would scar, a mix of small charms and a certain residue that had been on the knife he’d used. That time, it had been the only scar there.

Now, it was obscured by new scars courtesy of the final battle at Hogwarts.

“What are you looking at, boy?” Greyback’s voice broke through Severus’s thoughts.

“N…Nothing,” he said, stepping back to stand beside Perry, who was clearly terrified out of his gourd.

Greyback mistook Severus’s gesture as fear and smiled menacingly. “Yes, be afraid of me,” he said smugly. “I’ll think of something yet.”


	25. What Rhymes with Despair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: what rhymes with… Despair  
> Challenge: #311: Song  
> Word count: 6 x 100  
> Rating: PG-13  
> Summary: Mother Goose can't save your soul.

More men arrived in the room as Greyback and Severus continued stared at each other. A tall, rather well-presented man in a slightly shabby waistcoat approached Greyback and tapped him lightly on his shoulders.

“Quite a selection you have here,” the man said.

“Take your pick,” Greyback said, stepping slightly aside. “Except that one,” he added, pointing at Severus. “I’ve plans for him.”

“Pity that,” the man said, tapping his chin with a gloved finger. “Good posture on that one, would surely sell well in the Continent.”

“No.”

The man tutted dismissively, then turned to examine the cowering children closely.

* * *

_Child traffickers?_ Severus had heard about this, of course, somewhere down the pipeline. Orphans and not-so-orphans being sold abroad to wealthy families. And there were a lot in supply in war-ravaged Britain.

“Those three. That one. That, that, and that,” the man ordered. Children were dragged out of the group and lined against the far side of the room.

The man paused for a while, then turned to Greyback and said, “Are you sure that boy is off-limits?”

“No means no, Grumby.”

“The boy next to him, then.”

It took a while for Severus to realise that Grumby meant Perry.

* * *

“No!” Severus exclaimed before he could stop himself.

“What did you say, boy?”

“No?”

“No?” Greyback asked, amused. “You mean, we can’t take your friend here?” Greyback stepped forward and yanked Perry out from the group. Perry gave a little yelp of surprise.

“I… Just…” _oh Salazar_, Severus cursed under his breath. _You and your bloody big mouth, Snape!_ “Don’t take him away.”

“What can you do about it, eh?”

“I…” Severus shifted from foot to foot. “I… I’ll kill myself! I’ll bite off my tongue and kill myself. _Then_ you’ll be in big trouble with Lu… with my father!”

* * *

Much to his consternation, Greyback and the rest of those oily men let out a huge bark of laughter. Severus grimaced inwardly. _Should’ve known_, he thought. Threats just wouldn’t sound right when one sounded like a six-year-old.

“Spine,” Greyback said after a while. “Are you sure you’re Lupin’s?” His eyes narrowed, as he leaned down to put his face as close to Severus’s. “You don’t sound like your father at all.”

“I…” _Oh bloody hell. Think, Snape! Think! _“I… they… they said I take after Andr… after my grandmother.”

“Ah… yes.. Andromeda Black,” Greyback said, straightening up to his height.

* * *

Not a million years Severus would’ve thought that the famous Black temper would play a role in saving him.

“You amuse me,” Greyback said finally. “You can have your friend back. For now.” Greyback shoved Perry back into the group, much to Grumby’s annoyance.

“But…” Grumby started, only to be silenced by one sharp look from Greyback.

“Pick another.”

“But…”

“_Pick another_. Or don’t pick at all. There are still others who’d buy these children for prettier pennies than yours!”

“Fine! But see if I’ll ever do business with you again!”

“Oh you will, Grumby,” Greyback said, smiling almost benignly.

* * *

In the end, seventeen children were picked. Severus wished for anything that he could save them, too. But in the end, he could only stand helplessly as those children were ushered out, crying and wailing. He felt numb inside, almost didn’t realise that Perry had wrapped a hand around him in a loose hug.

Greyback and Grumby and a few other men left the room, leaving the children with their original minders.

He felt Perry tremble, heard him sobbing quietly.

_Rock-a-bye baby_.

“Don’t cry, Perry. Please,” he whispered.

_When the bough breaks_.

“You too,” Perry replied between hiccups. “You too.”


	26. Morrisdancing Werewolves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: morris-dancing werewolves  
> Challenge: #312: … and Dance  
> Word count: 4 x 100  
> Rating: PG-13  
> Warning: sweary language  
> Summary: when in dread and heavy in anger, think of werewolves morris-dancing. not that it'll help much, but why not try?

A boy was sobbing uncontrollably some ways away from where Severus and Perry were standing. One of their minders, a smallish man with an patch over his left eye walked over to the boy.

The man patted the boy on his head and said, “No need t’ bawl yer head off for yer friend there. He’s gowan to a good fambly, he is. Some good, rich fambly that Ol’ Greasy Grumby’ll make pay a lot for ‘im. In fact, you should dance fer joy fer yer friend.”

“W… w… will I ever see him again?” the little boy asked meekly.

* * *

The man’s laughter was loud and rough, surprising everyone in the room. He laughed for a long time until a tear fell out of his right eye. “No, no, no, my boy. Or at least, I don’t think so.” the man said, still chuckling every so often.

The man looked contemplative for a while. “Yer friend’s off to good and better things. Can’t say the same ‘bout youse lot.” he looked up and across the room to the other minders watching him with a certain kind of amusement.

“If I were you, boy, I’d be crying for me own misfortune.”

* * *

Severus and Perry, along with the other children in the room, listened with growing dread as the man outlined their bleak future. The illegal magical carpet workhouses in Manchester, working the streets as beggars and things unmentionable to little kids.

How Severus wished he could just hex each and every one of those smug adults.

_So, Greyback thought himself a modern day Bill Sodding Sykes, eh? Bloody Greyback and his band of merry werewolves arse-dancing in a row. _

Around him more children had started to cry, and the men seemed to take perverse delight in causing such a fright.

* * *

The children were soon fed and potioned off. Then, they were sent to the communal lavatory for a “quick piss and shit” (as their minder said).

Back in the room, the children lay cramped like kippers drying in a rack.

Perry soon slipped into an exhausted slumber. Severus though, found it hard to sleep. He stared at the ceiling, counting down to that small window where he would be strong enough magically to contact Remus.

In his mind, he conjured up wolves standing on their hind legs, morris dancing. It did little to alleviate the dread growing in his soul.


	27. Plan Yuletide Early and Often

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: plan early, plan often  
> Challenge: #313: Snape's Holiday Season  
> Word count: 5 x 100  
> Rating: PG  
> Summary: when you can't sleep at night, waiting to be rescued, you can plan for Yuletide. because it's never too early to plan for Yuletide.

He didn’t know how long he’s been staring at the ceiling. Perry shifted beside him and he shifted sideways.

“You’re still awake?” Perry asked, struggling to get up on his elbows.

“Can’t sleep.”

“How long until… you know…” Perry made a wand-waving gesture.

“Soon, I think. I managed to spit some out.”

In the darkness, Severus could barely see Perry, but he still felt Perry staring at him. “We were planning to move overseas. America probably. I hear it’s better than here.”

America reminded Severus of Aunt Vezza. He hadn’t seen either his aunt or uncle in quite a while.

\---

“It depends on who you’re staying with and what the neighbourhood’s like,” Severus said after a brief thought. “I have an aunt, married to an American muggle.”

“Is she nice? Where does she live? I wonder if I’ll live anywhere near your aunt. It’ll be nice, wouldn’t it? We can visit each other often.”

“_If_ we get out of here.”

“We _will_. My father will look for us, I’m sure,” Perry said, reaching out to squeeze Severus’s upper arm. “We’re going to a pick out decorations for my first Yuletide abroad. And you’ll have to come stay with us. Promise!”

\---

“Isn’t it awfully early to be thinking of Yuletide?”

“It’s never too early to think about Yuletide,” Perry said, and Severus could hear the smile in Perry’s voice. “Father said so. The best decorations need to be ordered and picked out early.”

“You must be awfully wealthy,” Severus remarked offhandedly. Somehow the way Perry spoke about picking out decorations reminded him of Narcissa (and also Draco when he was young, all those years ago).

“Father is,” Perry said, his voice tinged with pride. “So. You’ll promise that you’ll spend Yuletide with us?”

“If I’m able to,” Severus ventured cautiously, solemnly.

\---

The slow rise of magic never failed to warm his heart, and this time it felt like Yuletide had come early. Smiling, he reached for the stolen wand he’d hidden.

“It’s back? Your magic?” Perry whispered excitedly. Severus merely nodded (he wondered if Perry could see him nod in the dark, then decided he couldn’t care less).

He looked around until he’d convinced himself that it’s safe enough. He gripped the wand, still unaccustomed to this foreign wand. Slowly he coaxed the link open, felt a different scene unfold in his mind’s eye.

He called out and felt Remus respond.

\---

“Severus!” Remus exclaimed, scooping Rope up.

“…pin?”

“Where are you?”

“Not …re. But Greyba… ...ere!”

“Who?”

“Greyback! And a lot others!”

He blanched, felt his heart sink to his stomach. Behind him Minerva and Shacklebolt gasped. Vezza and Richard were unfamiliar with the name, but judging at the other wizards’ distress, this person couldn’t be anyone good.

“Stay safe, Severus. Please.” They heard Remus said. Vezza wondered whether Remus would soon faint, him being so white like a ghost.

Severus didn’t reply.

Remus slumped onto the floor. “The team’d better come soon,” he said, forehead pressed tiredly against his knees.


	28. Who On Earth Are You?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: who on earth are you?  
> Challenge: #314: First Foot  
> Word count: 4 x 100  
> Rating: PG  
> Summary: another breadcrumb to add to the trail

The loud knock at the door startled them. Remus dropped Rope unceremoniously.

_Ouch._

Remus glared at it.

_Sorry. It didn't hurt, really._

Kingsley and Richard reached the door first, followed by Minerva and Vezza.

“Stay, both of you,” Remus addressed both Rope and Reginald. “And you,” he said, pointing at Rope who would've looked all innocent if it had a face, “play dead.”

_Good idea,_ Reginald added. _No sense in frightening muggles with an irritating, slithering rope. _

_Shut up, Fatty!_ Rope hissed. _Why is it always me? I bet Severus'd be nice to me. He'll hex you all for this!_

\---

Remus stared at Rope. “If that could bring him back here to safety, I wouldn't mind him hexing me seven ways to Sunday. Anyway, I'm used to him hexing me.” He chuckled sadly, then moved to join the others at the door.

There was a woman standing just outside the door.

“Oh, I thought Graham's back,” the woman said, disappointed. “Who are you by the way?”

“Who is this Graham you speak about?” Shacklebolt asked instead.

“The owner of this house, of course!” the woman said, craning her neck to look around. “Though it's been years since anyone's seen him.”

\---

She tilted her head to one side. “I think it was two or three years ago? I remember him being around for _Nos Galan_. A very good first foot, bringing around very good whiskey and shiny coins. His wife baked good black buns but she died probably five years ago. He's got a good son, quite talented at rhyming and the _marilwyd. _Favourite at eisteddfod, too, that boy.”

She heaved a heavy sigh. “But where he went off to, nobody knows. Rumours said he had to go find help for his son who had some blood disease or something horrible.”

\---

The woman appeared to be a neighbour (though in such a place, the closest neighbour would still live a mile away, if not more). She'd noticed a lot of activities going around the house for quite some time now. “That's why I'm here. Would've come 'round sooner if I could.” She talked endlessly about Graham Blaidd and the boy and the wife, until finally some young man came round to fetch her.

Richard sighed as he closed the door. “Are you going to dig around about this Graham chap?”

Shacklebolt nodded, already going inside the house to contact his people.

\---


	29. Apple Green Snake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: once upon a time...  
> Challenge: #315 Snape's Best (or Worst) Gift  
> Word count: 4 x 100  
> Rating: PG  
> Summary: ...there was a boy with an apple green snake

The Tracker Team had arrived a few hours later and promptly went about doing their job, accompanied by the men and the snakes. Minerva and Vezza didn't take kindly to being left behind, but stayed back nevertheless, waiting for information about Graham Blaidd to come in.

“I'm surprised he still had this with him,” Vezza said, misty-eyed.

Minerva looked at the handkerchief in Vezza's hand. “You made that for him?”

“Amongst other things,” Vezza said, chuckling sadly. “Mostly when he was young, though.” She traced the faded borders of the handkerchief, which used to be tiny apple green snakes.

“Maybe he felt he could use it again, him being small now,” Minerva said.

“Our neighbour – Old Snakehand, we used to call him – had pet snakes, small ones, big ones, you name it,” Vezza said. “Severus would go straight there whenever he visited for holidays, stayed there most of his holiday, made me wonder who's really the relative around there.”

“Oh, bless,” Minerva said, always eager to listen to any childhood story about Severus.

“One holiday, he received a snake as a present, and a note Old Snakehand had wrote himself on the care and raising of the wee snake.”

“He must be so excited.”

“Oh, indeed! He couldn't take it back with him, though. And it devastated him,” Vezza said, looking both sad and fierce. She had often wished she could strangle Tobias Snape with the snake. “Anyway, another holiday, we took him to a children wands shop and bought him a child's wand with money that Eileen gave us.”

“A children wands shop?” Minerva asked.

“Oh yes, there are many wand shops in America, unlike Ollivander's monopoly in Britain,” Vezza replied. “Between the snake and the wand, I don't think he managed to sleep a wink!”

“Then one night, he spelled the snake apple green,” Vezza recounted. “It wasn't a permanent change, but it's enough to horrify him.”

“So, that's where your inspiration came from,” Minerva pointed at the handkerchief with apple green snake borders.

“I gave him as a present the next year. I didn't expect he'd keep it.”

“He's an enigma, that boy.”

“Always,” Vezza concurred.

The two women sat, a pot of steaming tea between them and the fireplace crackling somewhere there. They waited for news, even as they reminisced about the boy who would be man who was now a boy again.


	30. Escape!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: An Escape?  
> Challenge: #316 Fifty  
> Word count: 4 x 100  
> Rating: PG  
> Summary: Will you love me when I'm fifty...

Severus and Perry sat up all night, their backs against the wall. In the dark, Severus tried to count the children in the room. Maybe fifty maybe fifteen, he thought, tired eyes and dancing shadows. What a crap spy he turned out to be, he thought.

Perry was valiantly trying to stay awake, keeping Severus company, but he nodded off soon enough, snoring softly.

_Children_, Severus thought, _how adorable_. So trusting. Would Perry be so trusting if he knew how old Severus really was? Perry was in Hogwarts, wasn't he? Surely he must've heard about the Dungeon Bat of Hogwarts.

\---

Once, during a raid of a muggle pub, he heard a song being played on the soon-to-be destroyed music box. Will you love me when I'm sixty-four, it sung defiantly, above the yells and howls and spells and general mayhem.

Truthfully, he couldn't imagine what sixty-four would be like for him. In fact, he didn't believe he'd live to see fifty, let alone sixty-four.

He'd been significantly older that time, significantly closer to fifty than he was now.

Now, small and not yet ten, he really wondered whether he would ever see fifty at all.

\---

Morning arrived soon enough, and the children were rounded up, marched up and down the hallway – the loo, the waiting room, the dining room with long rows of tables and benches.

As they walked, in a loose teary row, Severus spied a dark corner that he didn't see last night. He slowed down, keeping his eyes on the minders who didn't seem to be at all vigilant. He ducked and side-stepped, tried to act nonchalant even as his heart hammered urgently in his chest.

He pressed himself into the corner, dark and coldly forbidding, as far as he could.

\---

He watched the last of the children and the last of the minders passed yonder. He took a deep breath and counted to ten, then twenty, then thirty, as he contemplated the possibility of Apparating without splinching himself. He rushed past forty and said 'sod it' to any good conscience.

A stolen wand, he thought morosely. Salazar, let me Apparate out safely.

A tingle, a tug. _See you around_.

Lying on his back, squelchy things soaking his clothes, blue skies above. _Let me rest my eyes a while_. He closed his eyes, wondering if he'd still know what fifty's like.


	31. Help!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: A hope for help  
> Challenge: #317 'Help'  
> Word count: 3 x 100  
> Rating: PG  
> Summary: I pray you're okay...

“So...,” Perry started, as he turned around to address his friend, only to find a less than familiar face looking back at him. He sighed deeply and looked away. He had forgotten that he hadn't seen his friend since this morning.

That man called Greyback had been angry when he found out the boy was no where to be found. He had been shouting, screaming and generally being very scary. A few men had questioned Perry roughly about it. “I don't know,” Perry had answered them all.

He hoped his friend's all right, somewhere out there, maybe looking for help.

\---

The Tracker Team had managed to plot the Portkeyed tree coordinates. It led them, Remus, Shacklebolt, and the two snakes to a small brick house – an empty small brick house, abandoned and silent.

“A temporary stop?” Shacklebolt asked. The team already on their job trying to identify a connecting portkey, leading elsewhere.

Remus stepped out of the house, and found him staring at a clearing. It was quiet outside, too. No neighbours or people in sight at all. No eye-witnesses.

\---

The sun climbed higher up the sky. He hoped there's still time to help the children; to help Severus.

Severus opened his eyes. The skies seemed less blue now, and there were more white clouds than before. Quiet with a lot of trees. It seemed that he managed to Apparate safely: all his limbs were intact, and he seemed to have gone quite far from the holding house.

He struggled onto his feet and fumbled around for the stolen wand that had rolled a short distance away.

He heard what sounded like chattering – people talking -- in the distance, carried by the wind. Help? He thought. Could it be? He wondered if it would be wise to head that way.


	32. Meet the Dursleys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Title: Meet the Dursleys  
> Challenge: #318 The Dursleys, Redux  
> Word count: 6 x 100  
> Rating: PG  
> Summary: Greyback's minions meet the Dursleys-do-rights.  
> Warning: Crack!Fic. Cameo!Dursleys might be OOC. I tried! Honest *cringes in corner*

Severus followed the voices that were carried to him by the winds. It wasn't a dense forest, nor was it an old one. But the topography was rather tricky to navigate for the small body he's currently inhabiting. A few wrong turns, a few trips over moss and fallen logs, he finally found his way to the edge of the woods, staring down at a familiar building.

_Curses!_ He swore under his breath. He didn't manage to Apparate far enough after all; only onto a low hill not too far away from that darned place. _Still. It's better than nothing._

\---

The voices he heard belonged to a group of ugly men Severus knew to be Greyback's minion, and they didn't sound too happy either.

"We should find the boy, before Greyback kills us," the one called Argus said angrily.

It was then that he thought he saw a shadow lurking and moving about on the hills yonder. “Who’s there!” he shouted, turning to go up the hill. His friends, often slow both in body and brain, followed.

He squinted, looked closely just as the small dark figure turned around and disappeared back into the woods. "The boy! That’s the boy!"

\---

_Found! _Severus turned around and started running as fast as he could. He didn't know how long he ran, or which way he'd taken.

Suddenly, he heard voices. _What?! Already?! _ He crawled under a nearby shrubbery. The voices got closer. He pushed himself deeper into the thicket, unmindful of twigs and thorns grazing his skin.

"Dudley! Stop complaining! This is for your own good! Your cholesterol level is already too high."

"Let's rest a while," Vernon huffed at her.

_What on earth! _Severus almost jumped up in surprise, narrowly missing being poked in the eye by a particularly sharp twig.

\---

Petunia agreed to a rest under the shades. Against her wishes. But really, when did she ever get things done her way?

Bad enough the doctor had proclaimed that Dudley and Vernon had abnormally high, death-inducing cholesterol level. Bad enough they were sentenced to mandatory exercises, which unfortunately included treks and long walks when the weather's good out.

She was halfway through worrying that the hill she'd chosen wasn't obscure enough, that someone would recognise them and be vindictive enough to start gossip back in Little Whinging, when she saw several men heading their way. "Oh, just what we need."

\---

"Oi, fatties!" One of the men called. "Did you see a boy? This high, dark hair, bad skin, bad nose, bad teeth, bad attitude?"

_Sounds like someone I know_, Petunia thought. "No," she answered. “Bugger off,” she added.

“Look! I think those are wands!" Dudley whispered.

_Wizards! _Petunia thought angrily, her blood pressure spiking dangerously. _I've had enough of wizards! _"Fuck off! I've had enough of you lot!"

She screamed and yelled so loudly, she surprised the birds off the trees and men off their feet.

Tripping over one another, the men tumbled down the hill with a pitiful howl.

\---

Severus waited a while longer until the Dursleys moved on, huffing and puffing up the hill like three not-so-little piggies.

He then extricated himself from the tangled thorns and vigilantly returned to his self-appointed task, searching for help.

So it came to pass --though nobody would ever tell-- that on that particularly bright afternoon, Petunia Dursley née Evans had unwittingly saved Severus Snape from a very certain danger.

For that, Severus thought --in a sudden, unexpected spark of generosity-- he could probably un-hate Petunia just a little. A teeny-tiny little. Not that he's telling anybody about it, though.


End file.
